Of Gods and Monsters
by royalstandard
Summary: (Post S4 of TVD) Posing as a History professor at Tulane University in New Orleans, Klaus is on a search for the one thing he believed he'd lost forever: a doppelganger. On his way to discovery, he crosses paths with his estranged sister Rebekah, his volatile brother Kol, as well as a familiar enemy the werewolf, Hayley. (also featuring Marcel and Elijah)
1. Chapter 1

"So, what happened to Professor Boudreaux anyway?"

"He moved to Canada or Mexico or something over the winter holiday is what I heard someone say," Camille answered as she entered the history classroom behind her best friend. Consumed in rearranging her books in her arms while simultaneously trying to find the Chapstick that had managed to drop all the way to the bottom of her purse, she followed closely behind as the two girls found their way to their seats in the classroom of perhaps a hundred students.

"So the guy randomly picks up and moves to Mexico and doesn't tell anyone? He was born and raised here. How does that make sense?" Pree asked, flipping her curly hair back over her shoulder and leading the way to the seats they claimed before the holidays.

Shrugging her shoulders, Camille rolled her eyes slightly and tucked her blond hair behind her ear. "I don't know. Does everyone have to tell you every tiny detail of their lives?" She smiled innocently as she successfully retrieved her Chapstick and settled herself in her seat beside her best friend.

Rolling her eyes dramatically, Pree shrugged her prim shoulders and flattened her textbook and notebook out on the table in front of her. "Not necessary, but appreciated."

Camille chuckled in amusement, clumsily dropping her books on the table before reorganizing them into some semblance of order. Pree watched her with a mildly disdainful look out of the corner of her eye. She had always been the prim and proper one of the two - although she was markedly more outgoing and man-hungry than her best friend - and she often remarked on Camille's lack of care about how she looked to the outside world. She wasn't unkempt, but she was disorderly for Pree's taste, and she could really spend more time plucking her eyebrows. The story was so overdone, Camille had begun tuning her out long ago, and Pree stopped talking after a while, resorting to dirty looks and imperceptible sniffs of derision.

Absorbed in organizing her books and situating her purse safely on the floor between their chairs, Camille was unaware as the new professor entered the room, garnering a low whistle of approval from her best friend.

"Ohhh, I'd do him," Pree commented under her breath.

Camille's eyebrows raised as she glanced up, her eyes settling on the new - and seemingly-young - history professor. His dirty blond hair was curly and unruly in a classic way, and his cleft chin and cheeks were covered in the perfect amount of stubble. She guessed he was several inches taller than either of them, and he wore a black duster jacket which he removed and tossed over the back of his desk chair to reveal the smoky gray long-sleeved shirt he wore underneath. That was layered with a white shirt and overlaid with two necklaces, the symbols on which Camille couldn't pick out from so far away.

Why she'd bothered picking up on so many details about the man, she didn't want to analyze. She was a naturally inquisitive person and believed that the simple details about a person told the most about them.

"That's because you're horny and you have unresolved daddy issues; you'd do any attractive male who walked into the room," Camille retorted good-naturedly, garnering an elbow from her best friend who shot her a feigned look of offense.

"This is when I hate you being a Psych major. Stop analyzing me, Cam."

Holding her hands up in surrender, Camille smiled to herself and pulled out her pen as the lecture began.

She'd always enjoyed history, although she preferred psychology to all areas of study, but she couldn't focus over her friend fidgeting beside her. Half an hour into the class, she cut her eyes over at Pree to see her sitting forward on her elbows, her cleavage pressed up into her chin as she chewed obviously on a piece of gum, accentuating her already-plump lips.

"Seriously?" she whispered exasperatedly, her eyebrows shooting up as she fixed her friend with a condemning look.

Pree returned her desperation with a look of innocence Camille knew to be completely fake. "What?"

"You know what," she hissed in return, motioning curtly with her head toward the professor.

Pree smiled knowingly then, her gum snapping in her mouth. "I already told you: I want to fuck him. May as well capitalize on an opportunity."

Blushing, Camille shook her head and buried her forehead against the palm of her hand. "Pree... he's probably ten years older than us, not to mention the fact that he's our _teacher_..."

"So? No one needs to know. It's not like I want to marry the guy."

"Oh my, I just can't with you-" Camille began.

"Ladies," came the lilting voice of the professor, his English accent carrying over any humming of voices in the classroom. Camille's blood ran cold at that word, knowing instantly he was addressing them. Pree sat up straighter in her chair, her hair bouncing around her shoulders as she smiled sweetly down at him.

Turning, mortified, toward the front of the classroom, Camille absently brushed her blond waves behind her ear and looked down at the teacher as he watched them intently. His look was a mixture of so many things - Was he mad? Was he amused? Was he indifferent? - she found him untouchable from the moment she made eye contact. He was instantly an enigma, and an inexplicable spark of curiosity came to life within her brain. She loved watching people, loved analyzing them, and seeing someone so impossible to read caught her attention immediately.

She knew she was staring, but she couldn't help it. It wasn't even his inescapable good looks that drew her, but that potpourri of unreadable emotions that crossed his blue eyes as he smiled a pleasant smile up at them.

"Is there something I can help you with?" he asked, his voice pleasant with a hint of something darker underneath that she couldn't pinpoint.

"You could probably help _her_," she blurted before realizing what she'd said.

Pree's jaw dropped and she looked over at her friend as the students nearby began giggling. There she went with her bluntness again. That seemed to be a problem she would need to get control over. Her cheeks pinked gently as her eyes widened, disbelieving she'd actually said what had just come out of her mouth.

The professor smiled then, a smile she considered genuine and not forced or sickeningly sweet as before, as if he was amused by her bleated response. Intertwining his hands behind his back, he shifted his weight and looked up at them out of the tops of his eyes.

"I would appreciate if you would remain silent during class, if that's at all possible," he remarked, his tone demanding but calm. It was surreal, how sufficiently he shut down any desire she might have to argue with him, as if his voice was somehow manipulating her with its velvety power.

Nodding meekly, Camille stared down at her notebook, noticing a similar reaction out of Pree beside her. As class continued, she tried to disappear into her seat but felt as if eyes were boring into her the entire time. A shift beside her caught her attention and she glanced over to see a note Pree had written on her notebook. _Good job, dumb ass. Now I'll never get laid. :)_

* * *

Klaus stalked out of the classroom as the last students left, his impatience and curiosity overwhelming him until he felt the need to wring something's neck. He resisted, of course, and moved swiftly so as to maintain an aura of humanity while getting outside as quickly as possible. Pushing open the exit door with an air of violence, his brows drew down against the sunlight as he focused across the parking lot at the two men speaking on the edge of the campus. Their eyes turned and took him in simultaneously, and suddenly, he disappeared in a blur of motion, reappearing beside them in a flash. His mood was such that he didn't much care if anyone saw him break the laws of physics with his supernatural speed, and his eyes blazed with impatience as he halted at Elijah's side.

"I believe we've found the one you're searching for, brother," Elijah intoned, his voice calm and soothing as if he was always comforting a wild animal. In Klaus's presence, he technically always was.

"Where is Hayley?" Klaus asked bluntly, pushing between Elijah and Marcel and walking toward the black SUV parked on the road outside of the college.

"She's...safe," his protegé commented, his voice silky like melted chocolate, the perfect voice for a predatory vampire like Marcel.

Klaus raised his eyebrows slightly, his characteristic look of half-pissed inquisition passing over his blue eyes. "You know what happens if you harm her. I don't care if you have a fascination with romancing every werewolf you can get your hands on." He halted and turned to cut his withering gaze on the younger vampire who watched him with mild amusement on his face. "Your desire to live on the edge of danger is unimportant in the grander scheme of what I have planned for her. Keep your hands off."

Shrugging his shoulders innocently, Marcel smirked at his master and bowed his head slightly, his dark, almost black hair shifting over his shoulders. "As you wish."

Satisfied, as satisfied as it was possible for him to be, Klaus turned and marched off with the two following behind him. He'd been searching for too long, and he was getting restless. The incessant humidity of New Orleans did nothing for his mood even if the heat didn't affect him. The longer he had to wait for something, the more irritable he would become.

Jarring him out of his violent thoughts, his phone vibrated in his jacket pocket, and he growled audibly as he withdrew it. Seeing who it was, he shook his head slightly and dropped it back into his jacket. He didn't have time to deal with self-righteousness right now.

The trip to the homestead he still owned outside of New Orleans took hardly any time at all, thanks to his lead foot, and soon enough, the three of them were climbing the stairs inside. The compelled housekeepers scurried out of the way as the ancient vampires whisked through the house, stopping only when they reached the room specially designed for Klaus's current experiment.

Hayley's eyes snapped up as the three men appeared in the doorway, and she stood to her feet, glaring hotly at them in hatred. Klaus she hated the most, with exception to Marcel who obviously wanted in her pants despite (or perhaps in spite) of the fact she could easily kill him with a bite to his neck, and she could care less about Elijah who she considered to be the peaceful Original.

"Let me go," she snapped.

"Now, now, Wolf Girl, let's not skip the pleasantries," Klaus commented, smiling that sickening sweet smile of his as he entered the room, his hands going around his back as he watched her, nonplussed by her hot hatred of him.

Hayley spat at his feet as he began circling her, pulling against the wolfsbane-laced chains around her wrists. The metal burnt into her skin, and she grimaced against it but wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her pain. He smiled anyway, much to her disgust and chagrin, but she continued glaring undauntedly at him as he completed the first circle around her.

"Are we going to pretend like I appreciate the fact that you've got me chained to the floor in a house I've never seen? Because if you want my admiration, then you're going to be waiting a long time," she retorted, offering him a derisive smile of her own, satisfied when she saw the flash of irritation in his eyes.

"I could have killed you long before now, little wolf - or given you to Marcel - but I haven't. Have you asked yourself why?" Klaus asked as the French vampire behind him in the doorway smiled licentiously at her.

She hadn't particularly thought about why he was keeping her here after she'd told him about the betrayal of his hybrids, other than the fact that he still wanted Tyler Lockwood dead and couldn't find him. But that was information he could easily get from Caroline or even one of the Salvatore brothers for that matter. Tyler meant little to the vampires of Mystic Falls. She had to admit she was involuntarily curious as to where they were and why she was being detained instead of tortured. The entire situation confused her. She wasn't being treated badly, on the contrary, Elijah had been tending to her and protecting her from Marcel's advances, making sure she had every creature comfort she wanted besides freedom from the chains around her wrists.

"I haven't thought much about it," she lied, raising her eyebrows and pouting her full lips as she unflinchingly met his gaze.

Nodding his head with a knowing grin, Klaus began his circle around her once more, making her skin crawl when he was where she couldn't turn her head to see him. His brother and protege lingered in the door, watching with impassive expressions on their faces (excluding the occasional wink Marcel would give her when she made eye contact with him) as Klaus delved into his long-winded explanation as to why he had chosen not to kill her.

"It turns out you and I have much more in common than I first thought," he pointed out, his eyebrows raising as he meandered around the room.

"We don't have anything in common. Well, that's if you count Tyler Lockwood out of the equation," Hayley retorted, smiling darkly over at him as she saw the flash of anger pass over his face. She felt a small, petty victory in getting even the slightest reaction out of him.

Seeing Klaus's ire piqued, Elijah stepped fully into the room, ignoring Marcel who seemed overjoyed at the building tension between his master and the wolf girl. "Niklaus is descended from the original werewolf line as well as the original vampire line, as I'm sure you know," Elijah pointed out, standing in front of her and facing her as an honorable man was wont to do while Klaus fumed testily against the wall to her right. She fully expected the hybrid to spring at her at any moment, but he didn't, and his lack of reaction thoroughly confused her. That confusion was obvious as she narrowed her eyes and listened to Elijah's explanation.

"Recent discoveries have led us to believe you may also be descended from this original werewolf line," Elijah concluded, steepling his fingers together in front of him as he watched her face, awaiting her reaction.

Thick, latent confusion spread over her like molasses and she stared dumbly at the Original vampire as he waited patiently before her. "Isn't every werewolf technically descended from them?" she asked.

"Yes, but there are fewer original werewolves remaining than original vampires," Elijah clarified. Obviously, all but a couple of the original vampires were still alive, but the news of original werewolves was fresh information to her. She hadn't thought about the fact that there would be originals in the werewolf bloodline as well, but it made sense.

"You, my dear, are an original werewolf," Elijah concluded.

She sucked in a breath so hard, she almost fell backward as her eyes widened to look at him. Snapping her gaze from Elijah's impassive face to Klaus who stood watching her intently against the wall, she judged his reaction to see if it was true. As always, he covered any discomfort he had with a slightly demeaning smile.

"It appears we're related, little wolf," Klaus commented impassively, cocking his head as an amused grin replaced his usual smirk.

"Oh, hell no," Hayley barked, pulling against the chains around her wrists before remembering the wolfsbane and yelping as the searing pain burned in to her arms. Slumping over, her back bent but unable to sink to her knees on the floor thanks to her stubbornness and the shortness of her bindings.

"It makes perfect sense, honestly," Klaus intoned, moving from where he stood against the wall and walking around his vampire brother to stand side-by-side with his fellow Mikaelson as they watched the werewolf in front of them. "Nature has a balance for everything. If there are vampires, there must be werewolves, witches, hunters, and doppelgangers. It's a lovely cycle that we all must endure."

Stepping toward her, Klaus leaned over, propping his weight on his knees so he could look across directly in to her brown eyes. "There were five original vampire children (Mikael created to keep us all in line and on the run for the entirety of our lives), five original hunters (whom I killed...), and five original werewolves so it seems."

He rose to his full height, gripping her chin roughly and dragging her upward she she was glaring up into his steely face, his fingers digging painfully into her jaw. "You don't remember your parents because they died over a thousand years ago. We share the same father, _sister_."

His words, especially the term 'sister', cut through her and she lost the will to fight against him as he harshly pushed her face out of his hand. Stumbling backward, her mind reeled with the revelations. It was true: she didn't remember anything about her parents. She had always been told they died, and that was why she was in the foster care system. But when she thought about it, she didn't remember a life before the one she'd lived in her foster home. She didn't remember a childhood or her favorite teddy bear to sleep with during thunderstorms. She didn't remember the simple things that everyone else knew, and she'd never considered the severity of this until now. She'd never bothered to remember those things because some small voice in the back of her mind told her it didn't matter. Why worry when you had nothing to worry about?

But the words of the men holding her captive had triggered something within her mind. Although she hated him, and she hated the idea of actually being related to him, she instinctively knew Klaus was right. Some small part of her actually trusted his brother Elijah since the vampire had never found cause to lie to her, and he had been especially benevolent throughout her entire imprisonment here. He was merely following orders from his demanding hybrid brother. She could understand that sort of relationship. It seemed every relationship she'd ever had ended up that way, with her as the servant to a greater force.

"And because you are an original werewolf," Klaus began again, turning so he was facing her with Marcel outlined just above his shoulder with a hungry grin on his face, "You shall prove a very valuable asset to me indeed. Once your memories are restored especially. Until then, it's necessary to give you a little extra help."

Hayley's stormy gaze snapped up at the ominous sound of his words. "Extra help? What are you talking about?"

Klaus smiled that disgustingly masochistic smile and swiveled his weight as he did when an idea entertained him, his hands clasped behind his back. "Why I'm talking about making you a hybrid, of course."

She stiffened visibly, her brown eyes widening at the sound of it. She'd expressly told him, long before she'd ever known the blood connection between them, that she didn't want to be sired to him. If she was turned into a hybrid, that was precisely what would happen, and the idea sickened and infuriated her. "I already told you, I won't be one of your sired little bitches, Klaus. Besides, you don't have a doppelganger anymore, or have you forgotten that Elena Gilbert got turned thanks to your sister." She smiled caustically, seeing the anger flash over his eyes at the mention of his lost possession: his precious doppelganger.

Hayley knew the story. She'd become a close friend to Tyler Lockwood as she helped him break his sire bond, and she'd spent most of her time around him after the two had returned to Mystic Falls. She was up-to-date on Elena Gilbert's status and the fight to return her humanity to her. Of course, it hadn't worked, but Hayley couldn't care less about that. In fact, she was more than grateful for it in this moment. Without that doppelganger blood, Klaus couldn't turn her, and she would remain in her happy werewolf skin.

"Ah, but you've already forgotten today's lesson, wolf girl," Klaus pointed out, holding up a finger as he shifted his weight, shrugging his shoulders ever so slightly. "Nature has a balance. Five vampires, five werewolves, five hunters, five witches..."

"...and five doppelgangers," Marcel finished for him from the doorway.

Hayley's blood ran cold in her veins, and she closed her eyes at the realization. There were more doppelgangers than the Petrova bloodline. Now, she felt woefully out-of-date. She didn't know much about doppelgangers other than the fact that Elena had been one. Now she wished she'd read up on it a bit more.

"Once I get my new doppelganger..." Klaus pointed out, smiling a smile that could be considered happy if he was even possible of such emotion, "It seems you might become my sired bitch after all." He chuckled and turned to leave the room, Marcel following close behind him as his ever-loyal shadow. Elijah lingered for a moment, glancing back at Hayley as he reached the door. His lips parted and he pulled in a breath as he paused as if to say something. Perhaps to apologize or to console her. But he seemed to find no words, so he closed his mouth and turned, leaving her alone with the revelation that she would become the loyal follower of the one man she hated most on the earth if he was successful finding what he was looking for.

And he would be, she knew he would be. He was Klaus Mikaelson. She didn't stand a chance.


	2. Chapter 2

Camille munched happily on her potato chips as she lounged on the grass in the center of the university. It was really a brilliantly wonderful winter day, nearing the end of the season so it was still chilly but comfortable enough to sit outside with a jacket on and not freeze to death.

"This essay about Heart of Darkness is going to kill me. I've decided," Pree complained nearby, garnering a smile from her friend.

"It's highly unlikely you will actually die from it, but you might suffer some temporary psychosis as a side effect," Camille chimed in, leaning back against the tree behind her and smirking as Pree narrowed her eyes viciously.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with you half the time, honestly," Pree griped to which Camille chuckled and returned to the book spread in her lap. She didn't share the same literature class, and she'd already completed what homework she actually had, so she was relaxing for the time-being. Moments to relax came few and far between, and it felt awkward not doing anything, but she was enjoying it.

"Did I hear something about someone dying, or doth my ears deceive me?" asked a male voice, drawing Camille's attention up and out of her book.

A brunette had appeared above them, and he smiled pleasantly, his dark, almost-black eyes peering down at her and then turning to Pree as he fell to his knees and kissed her beneath her jawline. Pree giggled delightedly, and Camille raised her eyebrows, watching this newcomer with intense curiosity.

"Hi," Pree drawled flirtatiously, kissing the mystery man on his lips and looking cutely into his eyes before turning to her friend.

"Cam, this is Kol. Kol, this is Camille."

Kol's eyes turned to gaze at her, so dark it was as if he had more pupil than iris, and Camille watched him warily for a moment. Something about him was unsettling - perhaps the way he stared unblinkingly at her, nonplussed by her presence but inexplicably interested at the same time - but she couldn't quite pinpoint what it might be. He seemed to watch her with a predatory look, but she didn't flinch as she stared him down.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Camille. My only regret is that we haven't met sooner," he commented, his English accent lilting and dancing over his words. He was attractive, she had to give him that, but he was obviously cocky and full of himself: precisely the type of man Pree was unfortunately attracted to.

"If you stay around longer than one night, it's inevitable, I guess," she commented, feeling Pree's burning gaze on her as she realized, too late again, that her blunt tongue had gotten the best of her. It was no secret her friend slept around. Camille was the opposite, and while she'd been with a few guys in her time, she wasn't the type for wild one night stands. She wanted a relationship that would mean something more than just sex, although she knew the tension that caused within her was often more frustrating than she cared to admit.

Kol smiled at her, that same predatory, easy smile, before looking at Pree, his hand going to the side of her face to brush her hair back behind her ear. With his fingers trailing down her jawline, he spoke gently to her, "Run along and fetch me a soda, will you, darling?"

Strangely, although she was trying in vain to ignore him, Camille felt a pull at the sound of his voice. It had a velvety, persuasive tone to it, and she almost stood and went for the soda herself. Shaking her head and frowning, she returned to her book as Pree giggled and kissed him, rising and disappearing for what he asked.

"You don't like me."

Camille raised her eyes, noticing Kol watching her with a penetrating gaze. Doing her best to maintain her stoic impassiveness, she smiled a polite smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I don't like men who use my friends."

"And you have many friends with a personality like yours?" he asked innocently enough, but the subtle barb was evident.

Raising her eyebrows, she cocked her head and watched him as an amused grin spread over his lips. She knew then he was teasing. Perhaps she had misjudged him.

"I pick and choose my friends carefully," she noted, shifting her weight and crossing her legs Indian style beneath her. Her finger slid between the pages of her book to hold her place as she glanced back up at him. "There's an extensive three-step process involved actually. It's not as easy as it might seem." Her eyes danced with amusement, and she saw him catch her joke as he smiled and sat fully down in the grass, leaning back on the heels of his hands.

"So that's why Pree is the only one, even though you're nothing alike," he remarked, cocking his head and examining her like a curious dog might do.

Her mouth fell open slightly and she snorted cheerfully. "We've known one another since we were kids. We have a lot in common," she argued, not fully understanding why she felt the need to explain herself to him. She'd only known him for a total of perhaps five minutes, and here she was explaining why she and Pree were friends. It was really none of his business, but she was spilling it anyway.

"Ah, okay, I see," he noted, sitting up and resting his wrists over his knees as he watched her. Surprisingly enough, she was growing accustomed to that hawk-like stare of his, and it didn't unsettle her although a nagging sense that she should keep an eye on him plagued the back of her mind.

She was being silly - he was obviously just another college student like her and Pree - and she shouldn't feel as if she was talking to a mountain lion instead of an attractive British university student.

"You feel the need to critique my friendship, but what about you? How did you meet Pree? I'm sure it wasn't at a college mixer," she pointed out, raising an eyebrow knowingly. She knew her friend's habits.

Kol smiled broader then, obviously entertained by this topic change. "On the contrary, I got her drunk and we had sex in an alleyway down in the French Quarter," he replied simply, nonplussed by his brazen response.

Camille's jaw dropped open slightly, and she blushed, embarrassed she had brought it up as she laughed. She hadn't expected him to answer so honestly, but she appreciated it. As a psychology student and someone fascinated by the mind, she appreciated people who weren't closed up about their feelings. Too many people bottled up their emotions and turned into shadows of themselves.

"Well, thank you for the play-by-play."

"Oh, that's not the play-by-play," he corrected, shifting his weight and smiling. "The play-by-play would go something like-"

"No! Thank you!" she blurted, waving her hands in the air as Kol laughed at her response. "I'm really okay not knowing the details."

He shrugged nonchalantly, his perfect mouth drawing downward in symmetry with his shoulders. His black eyes danced, drawing her in as she dared to look up and into his gaze. In the weirdest way, it was as if there was no one else on the quad, and Camille cleared her throat to break the spell.

Glancing awkwardly down at her book which still sat in her lap, she tucked her hair behind her ear and ventured a look back up at him only after she'd composed herself. "So, you two are dating now?"

"I suppose so, if you feel the need to put a label on it."

Nodding, she looked away, wondering where Pree had run off to. Did it really take that long to get a soda?

"There's this party coming up," Kol mentioned, drawing her attention back to him as if he sensed her mind wandering. "I'd like to take you."

Her hazel eyes flickered back to him, and she frowned imperceptibly. "You're dating my best friend. I'm not going on a date with you," she replied, mildly disgusted but not surprised. It wasn't a shock that Pree would find an unfaithful asshole to spend her time with, but the again, she figured Pree wasn't terribly concerned with faithfulness as long as he was good in bed. The thought gave her an involuntary mental image of his black eyes and dark hair, his perfect lips on hers, on her neck, on her jaw...

Flushing, she cleared her throat and looked away, uncomfortable now beneath his watchful eyes as her errant thoughts ran away from her. She really did have too much tension.

"It's not a date. Pree can come too. You just look like you need to get out," he pointed out as if he'd read her thoughts.

Smiling to herself, she supposed he was right. Even a Psych major couldn't spend all day and every night alone in her dorm room studying instead of living life. That wasn't healthy.

"I'm not really the party-going type," she admitted, shrugging slightly and leaning back against the tree, tossing another potato chip into her mouth.

"And, what? You'd rather sit at home and eat potato chips and watch romantic comedies on a Saturday night?" he asked. She was amazed and abashed that he had guessed precisely her weekend habits, and she scrunched her nose and fixed him with a wry look.

"Yes."

Kol laughed, leaning back onto his hands and shaking his head. "You're coming with us, even if I have to drag you out myself. Pree told me how pathetic you are."

"Hey! I am not pathetic, thank you very much."

"Yes, yes you are. I haven't even known you a day, and I know you are," he responded with a light chuckle and a smile.

Shaking her head, but smiling nonetheless, Camille snorted slightly and pulled her knees up, resting her hands over them as she looked across at him.

"Tomorrow night, eight o'clock. I'll pick you both up," he noted, rising gracefully to his feet with no effort, leaving no room for her to argue.

"I really don't think-"

"Ah ah, no you don't. Eight o'clock. Let Pree dress you," he commented, fixing her with a discerning gaze.

Really? He'd only just met her and he was already making teasing comments about the way she dressed? It was depressing really, considering the fact that Pree was always telling her she should show some more skin or care more what people thought of her. Ultimately, she really didn't care, and that was the dilemma.

"I'll see you then," Kol finished, offering her one last fleeting grin that made her heart flutter involuntarily in her chest. As he smoothly walked away, she watched him with a frown on her face. She'd been so uncomfortable, so wary, when he'd first arrived, and somehow he'd managed to become genial with her in only a few minutes. She would never understand men no matter how long she studied psychology.

"Where is Kol? I've got his soda?" Pree asked, appearing suddenly to her right.

"He left, but not before he forced me to agree to going with the two of you to some party tomorrow night," she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and looking off across the quad after him although he'd long disappeared.

"Ohhh, a party! Don't worry; I'll dress you."

"Seriously? Does no one think I know how to dress myself?" Camille asked, exasperatedly.

* * *

"I have no idea why I allowed myself to get talked in to this."

Refusing to look at her reflection was Camille's last line of defense against this party. She was regretting getting herself talked in to it. A day to recover from the strangely chemical thoughts she'd had about Pree's somewhat-boyfriend Kol had sobered her up and made her wonder why she humored people. She would really rather stay at home reading or watching television. Getting dolled up - or rather, having Pree doll her up since she was woefully unaware of the social standards and customs of such things and couldn't care less most of the time - was not her cup of tea.

"You look... gorgeous, Cami," Pree stated, pausing and smiling appreciatively at her friend. "Look in the mirror."

"I really don't need to be convinced. I know I'm average," she pointed out sardonically. Pree fixed her with a dark glare and grabbed her shoulders, spinning her even as she continued to protest.

"Seriously, I don't see what the big deal-" her words were cut off as she came face-to-face with her reflection.

Her blond hair had been straightened down the sides of her face, and eyeliner accented her eyes, bringing out the greenish hazel tint of them. The eyeshadow on her eyelids made her gaze look smoky and sexy, and she was pleased that she didn't look like a painted whore as she'd worried would be the case. On the contrary, she did look better than she had to admit she'd thought she would. She wore one of Pree's dresses, a black lacy number with translucent lace sleeves which fell to her wrists and a short skirt that came halfway down her thighs. She felt exposed in the dress, but she also felt sexy. She seldom felt this way, especially not from simply looking at herself in the mirror.

"Wow.. Pree, thank you."

"I know, I know. I'm a miracle worker Who knew you could clean up so well?" Pree teased her. "Let's go before you back out again." Grabbing her hand, Pree drug Camille from the bedroom and down the hallway to the door.

To her surprised, Kol waited outside, dressed in a button-up shirt covered with a jacket and his dark hair swept back out of his face so his black eyes appraised her unabashedly. Pree didn't seem to notice as she rushed to his side like a obedient puppy, but Camille squirmed slightly under his stare. A day hadn't been long enough to become immune to those eyes, but she drew herself up and covered her face with an impassive look. She prayed he couldn't see through her and see the tension boiling beneath the surface.

"You look ravishing, Camille," Kol stated, his sincerity only marred by his ever-present smugness.

"What about me?" Pree asked, a childish pitch to her voice that Camille noticed had the habit of arriving when she wanted attention. Kol glanced dismissively over her and shrugged slightly. "You look as to be expected," he commented vaguely, warranting a shrill giggle from Pree that made Camille roll her eyes. He hadn't even complimented her. Instead, he was busy undressing her best friend with his eyes. Camille had half a mind to slap him and call the entire thing off, but he swiftly swept her up into his free arm, pulling her against his side opposite from Pree.

His grasp was crushing and exhilarating in the strangest way, and it knocked the wind out of her in her surprise. Pree's giggling as he led them down the stairs and to the sidewalk was the only thing that kept her mind off of his grip around her waist. She didn't even know him. She had absolutely no reason to be so attracted to him, but she couldn't help it. It was an animalistic response she supposed. It was purely physically based and had nothing to do with his personality, a personality which actually put her off. His self-confidence was obvious in the way he moved, the way he talked, and the way he assumed everyone would do what he wished simply because he wished it. The rational part of her mind wanted to smack him and tell him the world didn't revolve around him, but the less-rational, hormonal side of her enjoyed having his strong arm around her slender waist far more than she cared to admit.

As they neared the party, she deftly pulled free of his arm, putting some distance between their bodies. She caught his glance at her out of the corner of her eye, but she cleverly ignored it as she walked alongside him, keeping her attention on the party attendees as they meandered inside. Of course it was being held at one of the many frat houses, and Camille had never been inside one. She'd heard these events got pretty insane, and by the strobing lights within, she imagined it must already be elevated more than necessary.

She really did need to lighten up.

Once inside, she found the opportunity to remove herself from Kol's presence, declaring she was going to explore. This made Pree only too happy since she'd somewhere figured out that her 'boyfriend' was a bit too interested in her best friend, and the time alone pleased her. Camille escaped, disappearing into the flashing lights and gyrating bodies of the party. The atmosphere was suffocating in its intensity as she stumbled through the darkness, filled only with the blues and purples and greens of the dancing lights.

She scurried past tables of beer pong and people doing drugs in corners. Couples made out (among other things), and she rushed away from all of that, her thoughts returning unwillingly to her evil thoughts from earlier in the day. She needed some air.

Shoving open the back door to the house, she stumbled down the stairs and lost her footing. "Shit!" she cursed as her heels took her over, and she fell toward her face.

A hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her upright and saving her from face-planting. Her eyes widened and she glanced at her wrist which was held tightly by her savior's hand, following the arm upward to a young woman's smiling face.

"You almost took quite a spill there," the blond commented, releasing Camille's wrist and shifting her weight as her eyes flitted quickly over her.

"Thank you for catching me," Camille replied, offering the girl a weak smile.

"It's my pleasure," the girl stated simply, "I'm Rebekah."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Camille."

Rebekah nodded slightly, standing straighter than any other twenty-something young woman Camille had ever seen. She observed that it was a matter of habit that most women in their twenties carried themselves with either an air of superiority or a slumped-shouldered look that communicated the world had beat up on them and they hadn't grown out of it yet. While Rebekah's posture belied a latent superiority, it was a strangely ancient feel instead of the shallow haughtiness of most women their age. She couldn't put her finger on it, but Rebekah had an oddly classic and antiquated air to her.

Trying desperately not to over-analyze the girl, Camille cleared her throat awkwardly and turned to glance back at the party. "I should probably head back in and find my friends," she admitted sheepishly, brushing her hair behind her ear.

"There's no rush," Rebekah remarked, her voice suddenly smooth and provocative, bringing Camille's gaze back to her. Her brow furrowed slightly as she thought she saw the other girl's eyes darken in the semi-darkness.

"There's nothing to fear in the dark," she added, her lips curving upward into a dark smile.

"What do you mean?" Camille asked, confused.

Suddenly, the darkening of Rebekah's eyes was no longer something she was able to ignore, and wicked veins sprouted from her once-blue eyes, snaking over her cheeks. The whites of her eyes turned red, and as her mouth opened with a guttural hiss, fangs elongated from her canines.

Camille's heart stopped in her chest, and she gasped, backing away in a panic. Surely she was dreaming. But, no, her savior stalked toward her, fangs bared, a demon in disguise. The fear was palpable in her chest as she stumbled back toward the stairs, but she couldn't move fast enough to escape the vampire. Turning in an attempt to climb back into the house, she was brought up short as Rebekah rounded her - too fast for any human - and her hand clamped around Camille's neck, driving her backward and around the corner of the house, slamming her into the siding with enough force to knock the air from her lungs. It all happened in a millisecond, so fast Camille's brain couldn't comprehend what was happening. Rebekah hissed again - an evil, hateful sound - and dove toward her neck as she held her hostage against the side of the house.

A blur of motion erupted out of the corner of her vision, and suddenly she was free from the blond vampire. Her knees gave out and took her to the ground where she shook uncontrollably, trying to wrap her mind around what had just happened. She stared at the ground, stunned, as a scuffle erupted to her right.

"Bekah, no!" Kol barked demandingly, pinning his younger sister to the grass. Her blue eyes blazed furiously as she glared up at him, unable to fight him sufficiently despite the fact that they were both vampires. He was still a male, and that, unfortunately, meant he was inherently stronger than her. Her eyes boiled with the fury of this simple fact, but the veins slowly faded back into her skin, leaving her with her ire as a mask.

"She's the one Nik is looking for. She will die before I allow him to get what he wants," she hissed, tossing against Kol's hold to no avail.

His black eyes narrowed down at her before he glanced over at the human girl huddling dazedly on the ground. Releasing his sister, he was a blur of motion, arriving in front of Camille and placing his finger beneath her chin so she was forced to look up and into his eyes. His pupils dilated, turning his dark brown eyes even darker, as his compulsion sank into her mind.

"You will remember none of this," he spoke smoothly and softly, his velvety voice coercing her mind under his control. When her eyes glazed over and she relaxed against his hand, her shaking easing, he was satisfied that the compulsion had kicked in, and he released his hold on her.

Turning back to Rebekah, he cocked his head at her and grinned. "She can die, but not now," he corrected.

Rebekah continued glaring at him, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're going to allow Nik to find her. He's going to make more hybrids. He doesn't deserve that satisfaction."

"No, he doesn't," Kol agreed, holding his hands up in a surrender gesture, "But he won't miss her if we kill her now. He doesn't even know she exists. He and Elijah have a theory, but they haven't found her yet."

Her eyebrow raised, doubting his words. "Does it matter? When they find out she no longer exists, we get the same reward: Niklaus is incapable of making hybrids. With the cure defunct, he has failed and we have won a small victory over our bastard brother."

"But it hurts worse to find what you want and then to lose it than to find out it was never yours to begin with. You can't miss what you never had, isn't that right, Bekah?" Kol retorted easily, his words cutting.

Her face betrayed the hurt those words inflicted on her, but she didn't audibly admit it. Kol was more bloodthirsty than her. He was the better soldier. She had always been the heart of their family, feeling enough for all of them combined. She trusted Kol's judgement even if her desire to kill the girl was overpowering her reason.

"So we hand her to him," she stated flatly, still disliking the plan but having no choice.

"He's already found her, he just doesn't know it yet. But they'll sniff her out soon enough. It's only a matter of time," Kol commented with a nonchalant shrug. "It's our job to repair our relationships with our dear brother."

"Hell no," Rebekah retorted immediately, her anger at Klaus flaring up in her eyes. The betrayal she still felt over him daggering her for the curse was fresh as if it had happened only the day before. That was the weakness of being an immortal vampire: she remembered every memory as vividly as the day it happened.

"Yes," Kol argued, his tone forceful as his eyes darkened threateningly. "If Klaus believes his family is back together, then we are closer to him to pull the line and kill the doppelganger when the time is right."

She raised her chin and stared at him down the length of her nose. "Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer."

"Or in this case: your family," Kol agreed with a characteristic grin.

His wicked smirk was enough to melt a layer off of her icy mood, and the ghost of a smile passed over Rebekah's face. "It's the same thing really. But Klaus will know we're lying to him."

"You've lied to him before, sister," he pointed out, his eyebrows raising pointedly. "Or have you already forgotten the call you made to bring him back to town when the Salvatores planned to kill him?"

Her blue eyes hardened at the reminder. "I haven't forgotten."

"Betrayal is in our blood, Bekah. It comes natural to us. Why else do you think our family is so twisted?" he asked.

"So it is," she agreed, remembering the confrontation she'd had with Kol himself when he'd threatened to kill her over his fear for Silas. She knew he remembered it too, but he was far better at hiding his guilt and emotions behind his casual grin. "I'll go along with your plan, but I don't want her to live long. I don't think I can watch his petty victory even if it will be short-lived."

Kol snorted amusedly and nodded. "Very well. Now, go. I'll take care of this one."

* * *

Camille groaned as her eyes flickered open. The world was blurry and her head hurt. Slowly, the lights of the party came in to focus, followed by the faces of the people immediately around her.

"You're awake," came a familiar male voice, velvety smooth, and Kol shifted her in his arms to sit her upright beside him. His arm remained around her back, rested familiarly against her waist. His fingers didn't brush her, but the feeling of his arm against her lower back made her flush. She prayed the room was dark enough that he wouldn't see it.

"What... happened?" she asked groggily, blinking her eyes slowly. The last thing she remembered was going out the back of the house, and everything else was blackness. Was she drunk? Her head certainly hurt, but it was the back of her skull and not the parts she believed would be affected by a hangover. Not to mention the fact that she distinctly didn't remember drinking anything.

"You wandered off and took a pretty bad spill on the back porch. Smacked the back of your head pretty good," Kol answered her easily. "It knocked you out for a little while so you better be careful moving around."

Sitting up slowly wasn't slow enough, and she swayed in her seat, her hand instinctively reaching out to balance her. Unfortunately, the only thing to grab on to was Kol's knee, and she blushed brightly before pulling her hand away as if she'd been stung. She could almost feel his smirk at her reaction. She didn't know what was wrong with her. She wasn't typically shy around men. Perhaps it was because she considered him Pree's boyfriend and he was, therefore, off limits.

She rubbed her temple with her fingers. "I must admit, I've never been knocked out before. This is a first for me," she noted facetiously.

Kol chuckled beside her, shifting his weight and retracting his hand which greatly lessened the tension building in her chest. Sighing inwardly, she rested her head in her hand and wished her headache would go away.

"I believe this is a first for me as well. I've never had a girl pass out _before_ I could get to her," Kol teased, making her smile in spite of herself.

"Thank you for finding me and dragging me back in here so I didn't freeze to death outside or something," she commented sheepishly.

"It's not cold enough for you to freeze to death, despite the length of that dress, and I didn't drag you. I carried you. I am a gentleman, you know," he pointed out with an attractive smile. Her heart thumped hard in her chest, skipping a beat at his smile, and she mentally chided herself. She couldn't control her body's physical reaction to him, but he was Pree's for goodness's sake. At the very least, she would like to be able to control her thoughts.

He gazed at her, his dark eyes appearing black in the moody, strobing light of the room, and her lips parted as she pulled in a long, low breath. His eyes flickered down to her mouth, and that simple look made the shadows in the pit of her stomach stir involuntarily. Frustrated and embarrassed by her growing attraction to him - a male she had only just met a day before and who was technically dating her best friend - she struggled to find something to fill the building tension between them.

"Where is Pree?"

His dark gaze finally broke from her, and she almost visibly slumped with relief as he glanced around the room nonchalantly. "She's around here somewhere."

His lack of concern gave her an irritated edge that saved her from her straying thoughts of how attractive he was, and she frowned at him as she pushed herself to her feet. He followed her instantly, reaching out to stabilize her as she weaved in place. Pushing him stubbornly away, not wanting to feel his touch against her because that electrical current returned at the contact, she walked away from him.

"I'm fine. I'm going to go find her, and then we can leave. You, stay here," she ordered firmly.

Kol smiled amusedly at her, unaccustomed to humans telling him what to do but never admitting this to her since he'd been the one to compel her memories of Rebekah's attack out of her mind. She wouldn't remember any of it (unless she was ever turned into a vampire, of course, but that would never happen since Rebekah would kill her long before the chance ever arose).

"Yes, ma'am," he replied with a smirk, settling himself back on the couch as she disappeared to find her friend.

Her head was still swimming slightly as she searched downstairs with no result. Pressing her index finger in to the indention in front of her ear, she applied the pressure to temporarily relieve her headache. It succeeded as long as she continued to press against her ear, but it didn't go away entirely. Climbing the stairs carefully, her head throbbing with every step, she began to look through the rooms. She didn't know why Pree would be up here alone since her boyfriend and best friend had been elsewhere, but Camille wasn't the one to evaluate the subtleties of party etiquette. She also wasn't going to evaluate Pree's mind since that would take days at best.

Stepping into the doorway of one of the many rooms in the place, she came to a halt as she noticed a shadowy figure hunched over a prone body on the floor. With her headache, it took her a moment to focus past the pain, but she recognized Pree and her heart stopped in her chest, her blood running cold.

Blood pooled around her friend's head, turning her hair a macabre shade of crimson, and a gruesome mark marred the side of her neck at her jugular vein. The shadow rose as Camille gasped, gripping the door frame to keep herself upright. The smell of blood seeped into her nose, nauseating her.

"What the hell?! What are you doing?!" she cried, releasing the door frame as a wave of adrenaline overtook her. Rushing in to the room, she recklessly ran for the shadowy figure, not thinking twice about the possibility that she could become the next victim.

In a blur of motion, she was slammed to the floor beside Pree, the blood splattering as her back hit the puddle. She cried out and gripped the hand around her neck, fighting against the hold and resisting the urge to throw up as the smell of the blood grew stronger.

Kicking her feet, she tried to kick her attacker and landed a good heel into his foot as he held her to the floor. The man grunted and growled, readjusting his hold on her and crouching down so his face was illuminated by the one moody lamp in the room. His black hair hung in her face, and she blinked and batted at him, but he was too strong for her to fight off.

"Aren't you a fiesty little _bichette_?" he whispered lasciviously into her face. Her windpipe struggled for air, and she choked slightly, attempting to glare up at the man. The pain in her head was forgotten past the pain her throat and lungs as her air capacity lowered form his hold on her. His dark eyes had a red tint to them - or perhaps that was a trick of the light and her low oxygen state? - and he was attractive in a dark, deadly sort of way. All she could manage was to feel a growing hatred for whoever this person was.

"What...did you do... to Pree..." she choked out.

Marcel leaned down over her, smiling darkly as he examined her face. He hadn't noticed this one before. The smaller blond was the one Klaus had instructed him to target as the possible doppelganger, but this one was delicious-looking. Perhaps Klaus would let him keep her as a pet. He glanced over at her friend who was still breathing although the human girl's vision wasn't as acute as his and she wouldn't be able to see the gentle rise and fall of her friend's chest.

"She'll live. I was just trying out her blood. I can taste a doppelganger, you know," he pointed out.

Camille looked at him in confusion. What was he talking about? A doppelganger? Did he drink blood? What the hell?

"What are... you... talking about...?" she managed, struggling against his grip.

He leaned down over her, his nose brushing through her hair and around the back of her ear. She could feel and hear him suck in the smell of her, and she cringed at the action. It made her feel more like an object than anything ever had before, and she reached up and hit him against the side of his head.

Marcel reared back and caught her hand, slamming it back in to the floor causing her to groan as pain blossomed through her wrist. Pree's still-warm blood coated her arm now, sickening her. Squeezing her eyes shut as she struggled to keep her nausea down, she felt impotent and confused.

"Of course you don't know," he pointed out, his fingers tracing from her wrist down her arm, around the outer curve of her elbow to her ribs. Crossing over her breasts, he lingered on them, flicking her hand away easily when she reached up to hit him again. Her eyes snapped open and blazed angrily up at him, but every time she reached to stop him his movements were a blur to her and he shut her down. Marcel smiled licentiously down at her.

"How about a taste?"

The last thing she saw was his eyes turn red, veins sprouting from them, as he hissed and dove toward her neck.


End file.
